


Love Thy Enemy

by secretsidgenowriter



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, High School Hockey Captain Sid, M/M, New Kid Geno, Season Ending Injury, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsidgenowriter/pseuds/secretsidgenowriter
Summary: The guy from earlier, the new kid, is sitting alone along the opposite wall of the cafeteria. He has his lunch spread out in front of him mostly untouched as he taps away at his phone in his hand. “Who is that?” Sid asks as he swings his leg over the bench and settles in between Horny and Olli. He has to elbow around to make sure they give him enough space. “It’s been driving me crazy all day. Do I know him? I know I know him from somewhere.”Flower and Tanger whip around to face him and Sid freezes with his hand in his lunch bag, fingers gripping the pb&j his mother had made for him this morning.“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tanger asks and Sid stares back in shock.“What? I just asked a question. Do you know him?”Flower takes a deep breath and flattens his hands out on the table between them. “That’s Evgeni Malkin."





	Love Thy Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsuminoaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuminoaru/gifts).



> Thanks to Jack for being my beta and icedbatik for helping me with the title!

There is a boy with sleepy eyes and chapped lips.

He’s at least a head taller than everyone else, even as he hunches his shoulders in on himself as he walks a straight line down the crowded hall.

People move out of the way for him and then they turn to their friends and they whisper.

It’s rude, the whispering, but the guy- who is so achingly familiar to Sid that it’s making his skin itch that he can’t actually place him- doesn’t seem to care.

His face is set and determined as his long legs eat up the distance from one end of the hall to the next.

It’s a good skill to have, to not allow the words or actions of others to get to you. It’s something Sid has worked for years to perfect while he’s out on the ice. It’s not always easy to ignore the words an oppenent spits in his face or the that extra shove while the refs backs are turned, but it’s something that he has to do. Keep his head up. Play the game.

Sid presses his body back against his open locker as the new guy walks past him, leaving the spicy scent of his cologne behind, and as soon as he’s a few steps away he turns his head over his shoulder and makes eye contact with Sid.

His eyes widen for just a moment and Sid almost raises his hand in greeting because he _knows him_ , he just can’t place him and it’s obvious the guy feels the same.

There’s recognition there, in the chocolate brown of his eyes and the full set of his slightly parted lips.

Sid just needs a moment. They just need a moment to figure it out.

But that moment doesn’t come because the bell rings and the guy keeps walking and turns the corner and there’s nothing left for Sid to do but close his locker, swing on his backpack, and get to class.

-

Sid loves his summers.

He loves spending time with his family out on the lake and sleeping in, and being away from the pressures of homework and tests but he’s happy that the school year has started again.

September means that hockey is right around the corner and hockey means _everything._

It doesn’t even matter that Sid spent the last two months in Minnesota in what basically turned out to be a hockey boot camp.

It was practically heaven. He worked on his conditioning and media training and got to talk with former NHL players about what to expect if they make it into the league- and, Sid has every intention of making it.

To guarantee that, it’s important that this year goes well. Recruiters from colleges are going to start poking around and, even though Sid knows they’ve been following him from a far for years, this is the first time they’ll start to reach out.

Last year the Eagles fell just short of the finals despite all their best efforts but this year Sid is determined to get them there. They’re going to win , he’s going to have a career year, and he’s going to be offered a scholarship to a great college. After that he’ll be drafted and after more hard work he’ll make it to the NHL and then….sky's the limit. Stanley Cups and World Championships and Olympic Gold.

It all starts here and now, in the halls of Harbor View High School with teammates that are also his best friends.

They’re all going to have an amazing year. Nothing is going to stop them.

-

Somehow the bulk of the hockey team always ends up having the same lunch period.

Sid thinks it might have something to do with the tupperware full of cookies and brownies that Tanger and Flower drop off in the guidance counselor's office before the end of the school year but he’s never pressed them on it.

Plausible deniability and all.

Sid’s fourth period statistics class- which is going to cause him headaches, he can already tell- is on the opposite side of the school so he’s the last one to sit down.

Everyone has their heads bent together, whispering to each other in between throwing dirty glances over their shoulders.

Sid sets his brown paper bag down at the table and follows their line of sight.

The guy from earlier, _the new kid_ , is sitting alone along the opposite wall of the cafeteria. He has his lunch spread out in front of him mostly untouched as he taps away at his phone in his hand. “Who is that?” Sid asks as he swings his leg over the bench and settles in between Horny and Olli. He has to elbow around to make sure they give him enough space. “It’s been driving me crazy all day. Do I know him? I know I know him from somewhere.”

Flower and Tanger whip around to face him and Sid freezes with his hand in his lunch bag, fingers gripping the pb&j his mother had made for him this morning.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tanger asks and Sid stares back in shock.

“What? I just asked a question. Do you know him?”

Flower takes a deep breath and flattens his hands out on the table between them. “That’s Evgeni Malkin. How do you not know that?”

Sid furrows his brow. “Who is Evgeni- _oh.”_ Suddenly everything slams into place. Malkin, #71 and star center of the Crichton Park Cobras. Sid’s been playing against him for years now, ever since Malkin’s family moved to Canada from Russia and cranked the ordinary divisional rivalry up to eleven.

Malkin was fast , physical, and could handle the puck better than anyone Sid had ever seen. He had talent for days and a quick temper to match. He often took dumb penalties, but they always managed to spark his team and there wasn’t a shift that went by where he wasn’t say something sharp and severe sounding in Russian that Sid couldn’t understand. All Sid could do in return was mumble a _fuck you_ and _try_ to win the faceoff.

Malkin is a bear on the ice, incredibly tall and wide. He’s a presence. He is not this gangly kid eating lunch alone.

“No fucking way. Why would he be here?”

“He moved over the summer,” Tanger says. “You would know that already if you actually answered your texts.”

“He couldn’t answer his texts,” Phil says as he leans into the conversation. “He was too busy eating, sleeping, and fucking hockey all summer.”

Sid elbows him back to his place. “I shut my phone off so I could focus,” he says. Tanger rolls his eyes while Phil laughs. “There were three hundred texts when I turned it back on. You wanted me to read all of those? I skimmed.”

“Yes, I wanted you to read all of those; if you did you would know all of this by now. You really didn’t recognize him?”

“Not really. I only ever see him in his gear with the cage down. I never paid any attention to his face. If he was yelling shit at me in Russian, I would have caught on a lot faster. So what the hell, he just goes here now? Is he going to try out for the team?”

“Well he’s not going to quit hockey just because he moved forty five minutes to a new town,” Tanger snaps.

“All of our ice time just went down,” Horny says with a shake of his head. “How is he going to fit? He’s going to screw all the lines up.”

“We’ll be a better team,” Sid says but he’s not sure he believes it. Malkin’s style of hockey is overwhelming; the whole team at Crichton was built around him. It won’t be easy to plug him in here and have it work out. “It’ll work out. Sully will figure something out. Things won’t change that much.”

“Yeah right,” Brassy says with a roll of his eyes. “I just got demoted to the fourth line because of him.”

“How do we know Sid didn’t just be demoted to the second?” Tanger asks and Sid’s heart thuds painfully in his chest. This was supposed to be his year.

Things just got so much harder.

-

“Why is he even bothering to try out?” Sid is slouched down in the back row of the rink with Horny, Hags, Tanger and Flower watching the freshman and Malkin going through drills on the ice.

“Everyone knows he’s going to make the team, what’s the point?”

“I think it just wants to intimidate the kids,” Hags says, “it’s fun for him.”

Malkin is easy to track on the ice, even in his plain white jersey. He’s a giant, broad shouldered and long legged, and at twice as good as everyone else out there, through no fault of their own.

The young kids show promise. Simon, and Zach Something-Something, Sid can’t remember right now, show promise as young forwards, and Jarry could be a great back up to Muzz when Flower graduates.

But Malkin flies up and down the ice and the young D-Men have an impossible time keeping up with him.

Sully blows the whistle after he scores, again, and everyone skates to the middle of the ice so he can set up the next drill.

“He’s in my history class,” Sid says. “Sixth period.”

It was a shock to see him there, sitting in the back row. Sid had stopped dead in the doorway and one of his classmates slammed right into him.

“Ugh, is he a douche?” Hags asks.

“He hasn’t really done anything yet. Mr. Lewis asked him to introduce himself and he said we should call him Geno.” Sid kept looking back at him during class. Each time Malkin- Geno- had his eyes on the board and his pen in his mouth, the cap resting in the middle of his lip with just a flash of straight, white teeth. “He chews on his pens,” Sid says and the guys groan.

“He’s in my gym class,” Horny says, “He got picked last for dodgeball, and then he completely dominated and won the game.”

Sully blows the whistle again and starts another drill. Geno easily steals the puck from Jake and starts up the ice.

Sid leans forward in his seat and rests his head on his knees before he can see if Geno scores. “This is it. This is the end. There’s no way I’m getting a scholarship with him on the team.”

“Sid, that’s not true.”

“He’s bigger. He plays a more physical game. That’s the way the league in trending now.”

“But you’re so good."

“So what? He can do everything I can do with an extra, what, five inches on me? No one is going to be looking at me when he’s out there. I’ll be an afterthought if I’m lucky. He could really be on the first line. He could be the captain.”

“Sully would never.”

“Why not? He’s going to do what’s best for the team. Maybe it’s Malkin, or Geno, or whatever we’re gonna call him.”

“We just won’t play,” Tanger says simply. “We’ll tell Sully that we won’t play for anyone but you.”

“He’ll kick you off the team.”

“He can’t kick all of us off. What is he going to do, have Malkin and a bunch of freshman?”

“He could.”

“C’mon, Malkin is not that good.”

As if he could hear them Geno blasts the puck past Jarry from out by the blue line.

“Fuck,” Tanger says with a shake of his head. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Sid says as he rubs at his temples with his fingertips. “Fuck.”

-

There is a moment when he first steps onto the fresh ice where Sid forgets about everything that’s been weighing him down.

College, and the uncertainty of the future, and his new teammate.

It’s just him and stick in his hands and the puck that easily finds its way into the back of the next.

But then Malkin is cutting in front of him so suddenly that Sid almost loses his edge while trying to stop.

“Watch it, Crosby,” he snaps over his shoulder as he wrists the puck into the net.

“Sorry,” Sid says quietly and then hates himself because this is his town and his school and his ice. “Asshole,” he adds and Malkin grins as he retrieves the puck and skates back up the ice.

“Okay?” Tanger asks as he skates up and bumps their shoulders together.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Tanger shakes his head. “Never thought I’d hear you say that about anything hockey related.”

Sid shrugs and skates away. He never thought he’d be sharing the ice with Evgeni Malkin either.

The rest of the school seems to have moved on from talking about him, but it’s still a hot button issue within the team.

Nobody has warmed to him, and even though the season hasn’t even officially started, Sid can tell it’s going to be an uphill battle.

No one wants to pass to Geno, no matter how open he is. In front of the net no one is willing to set a screen.

It’s obvious what everyone is doing and as practice goes on Geno gets more and more frustrated and Sully’s face gets more and more pinched.

Things boil over at the end of practice when Sully splits the team in two for a scrimmage.

Only a few minutes in Geno pins Sid to the boards while they’re battling for a puck and grits out “tell teammates to pass to me,” in Sid’s ear.

“You’re not on my team right now,” Sid snaps back, “I don’t care what they do.” He finally kicks the puck free to Jake who moves it up the ice.

“Know what I mean,” Geno says as he whacks his stick against the back of Sid’s knees, not enough to hurt but enough to catch Sid’s attention. “Never pass, wide open.”

“Maybe you’re not as open as you think.”

“Wide open,” Geno says again, “D not that good.”

Something in Sid snaps. He can take Geno badmouth him but he’s not going to stand for him tearing down his teammates.

Sid drops his stick and then his gloves and Geno looks at him, wide eyed and amused as he leans in and says “Ты такой милый, когда злишься.”

A second later Tanger is flying in and shoving Geno to the ice.

Their hits don’t really land, and it’s pointless because they still have their helmets and cages on, but it doesn’t seem to matter to them. They tangle together cursing at each other in French and Russian until Sully and two assistant coaches to pull them apart.

-

In Coach Sullivan’s tiny office Sid sits between Geno and Tanger and very carefully stares down at the skate guards on his feet.

He can feel the rage rolling off Sully as he stands behind his desk with his hands on his hips.Now he knows how the refs feel. Now he knows why Sully occasionally gets tossed from a game; here’s really only so much one person can handle before they break.

“I want one of you to tell me what the hell happened out there,” Sully says. His voice is eerily calm and beside him, Sid can feel Geno flinch. “I don’t care who it is, but someone needs to give me a reason not to suspend all three of you from the team. I’m waiting. I know plenty of underclassmen who would love to take your spots.”

There’s a pregnant pause before Tanger takes a deep breath and says, “We won’t play for anyone but Sid as captain.”

“Tanger,” Sid hisses while Geno laughs.

“You think I want to be Captain?” He asks with a shake of his head. “Crazy.”

“Oh please,” Tanger says as he leans across Sid’s lap, “Like you don’t want to be the star.”

“Don’t need a letter on my chest to do that.”

“Don’t act like you would turn it down if it were offered,” Sid says and Geno rolls his eyes.

“Not stupid, of course I would take.”

Tanger points his finger at him. “There you go.”

“There I go, what? Don’t want it.”

“You just said you’d take it.”

“Said I would if asked. Not trying to take it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Not my problem. None of this my problem.” Geno swings his head around to face Sully who looks even angrier than before. “I didn’t even want to fight.”

Tanger scoffs, “when have you ever turned down a fight?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Sid says to Tanger and Tanger pulls back, offended.

“You’re taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side, I’m saying you shouldn’t have jumped in. I can fight my own battles.”

“Both can’t fight,” Geno mumbles and Sid has to hold Tanger back so he doesn’t crawl over his lap and start something up again.

“That’s enough,” Sully snaps and Tanger slowly sits back down. “This behavior is unacceptable especially from the leaders on our team,” Sully says as he stares down Tanger and Sid. Sid sinks lower in his chair. “I figured there would be a transition period given the history between Geno’s old team and our team but I never thought I would be breaking up a fight in the middle of practice. I want you all to know that we never once even entertained the idea of taking the captaincy away from Sidney but if this nonsense keeps up we’re going to have to reevaluate all of your positions on the team.”

“It won’t happen again,” Sid says quickly as he kicks at Tangers skate with the tip of his own. Tanger nods in agreement. “We’re sorry.”

“It had better not happen again,” Sully says as he takes a seat behind his desk. “Next time you’ll be speaking to Principal Rutherford instead of me and I doubt he’ll be so lenient.” He waves a hand at them. “Get out of my office and fix this,” he says as the three of them trip over their chairs and each other to get out the door.

In the hallway Tanger shuts the door to Sully’s office behind him carefully then jams his finger into Geno’s chest.

“This is how it’s going to go,” he says, punctuating each word with a jab. “On the ice we’ll figure it out. I want to win just as much as you do, and Sid probably wants to win more than both of us combined.”

Geno rolls his eyes and Tanger digs his finger in again.

“You’ll get your passes and your coverage and your screens but that’s it. You get sixty minutes on ice and after that we don’t know each other. You’re not our friends. You’re not even a part of the team.”

“Fine,” Geno says as he slaps Tanger’s hand away. “Don’t need friends, just need to win.”

“Fine,” Tanger snaps, “glad we finally agree on something.”

Geno says something under his breath with a roll of his eyes before he stomps off.

When he’s out of earshot Sid turns to Tanger with raised brows. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“This was me being nice, probably nicer than he deserves.”

“Still, he is on our team.”

“Which is why I said we’d cool it on the ice. That’s the most important part of all this.”

“Yeah, but-.”

“Come on, Sid, think of all the shit he’s pulled on us over the years. All those borderline hits, all the shit he’s said. And in Russian too, I know he knows how to trash talk in English but he has to do it in Russian because he knows it’s going to bother us. Fucking asshole. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sid admits.

“I don’t know why we have to be close with him off the ice, that’s all I’m saying. We’ll be a team during practice and during games but after that it’s over. We’re back to being strangers. He doesn’t deserve anything more from us. Not after the way he treated us. It’s been _years_ , Sid.”

“Okay, alright. But things have to get better on the ice. I can’t afford-.”

“To lose,” Tanger finishes for him as he wraps his arm around Sid’s shoulders. “I know. We all know, and that’s why we’re going to make sure nothing stops you from having the best year ever, including Evgeni Malkin.”

-

In study hall Sid sinks down in his chair and plugs his headphone into his phone.

There are still videos of Geno up on Crichton Park’s athletic page and there probably always will be. He was easily the best athlete to come out of their school and Sid can’t imagine how the hockey team will recover from his loss.

He also doesn't care.

Geno is a menace and each time he knocks someone off the puck and to the ice Sid winces in sympathy. He’s had his own bumps and bruises at Geno’s hand to know how it feels and he’s glad he won’t be on the receiving end of that anymore.

Between the hits and the penalties is some truly amazing hockey. Geno’s quick, and not just for his size. He regularly beats guys up and down the ice and makes them pay for it more often than not. He has a deadly slapshot and wrist shot and one timer. His form is beautiful to the point where Sid’s almost jealous of it. It’s effortless even though he’s sure Geno works hard for it. He looks like he could already be playing in the NHL.

In the videos Geno scores goal after goal and Sid finds himself paying close attention to the way Geno reacts after each one. He throws his hands up and out and pulls his teammates into a hug, every single time.

Sid keeps watching and realizes he does the same thing when one of his teammates score. He’s just as excited, maybe even more so, and it’s so obvious that he loves his teammates.

It must be a hard adjustment to make, coming from a team with so much support to one that doesn’t even plan on talking to him when the skates come off.

Sid feels bad for him until the next clip loads. It’s an Eagles vs Cobras game and Geno easily steals the puck from him and then evades Tanger and Dumo before he slips the puck past Flower.

Sid closes the pages and pulls his headphones out of his ears.

Whatever silent treatment the team dishes out, Sid’s sure Geno can handle it.

-

Tanger is true to his word and the rest of the team fall behind him. There isn’t another fight at practice and everyone seems to get along.

Sid’s almost fooled into thinking they’re all friends, joking and laughing about something one of the freshmen has done until they head back to the locker room and start to make plans for after school or the weekend.

Geno is never included. He keeps his head down as he undresses, showers, and gets dressed. He doesn’t even say goodbye before he leaves and no one says goodbye to him.

Sid watches him walk by with a heavy weight in his chest. He should say something or try to bring Geno into the group. The guys will get over their feelings about him but only if someone breaks first. Sid’s the captain, it should be him.

But he never says anything, and Geno still eats lunch all alone.

-

The first game of the season comes with a sell out crowd and high expectations.

A few stalls down from Sid, Geno’s leg bounces up and down as Sully talks. He looks like a bundle of nervous energy and Sid would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

With the addition of Geno the team is supposed to be great. They’re supposed to burn through the regular season and into the playoffs.

A win tonight could set the tone for the entire season. Unfortunately, a loss could do the same.

“And everyone remember to have fun,” Sully says as he winds his speech down. “Let's get out there and play some hockey, okay?”

He’s met with a cheer from the rest of the team as they stand up and head towards the exit.

Sid’s always the last one out so he waits by the door for Geno but Geno just stands there, staring at him.

“Go ahead,” Sid says as he sweeps his hands towards the door.

Geno shakes his head and says “I’m last, you go.”

Sid laughs. Geno has to be fucking with him. He found out about one of Sid’s weird quirks and he’s trying to turn it into a joke.

“Just go,” Sid says, “It’s not that funny.”

“Not laughing. I last, always go last, everyone know.”

“Well, I didn’t know.”

“Know now. Go, Crosby, or they start game without us.”

“We could rock-paper-scissors for it?”

“No. What month you born?”

“August.”

Geno points to himself. “July, older. Been playing hockey longer. You go first.”

“But...I-.”

“Sometime today, boys,” Sully says as he calls them from up the hallway.

“Fine,” Sid says with a sigh. “I’ll go.”

Geno nods then knocks his fist against the center of Sid’s chest and ducks down to tap their foreheads together. He’s close enough that Sid’s eyes have to cross to look at him.

“New luck,” Geno says then he pushes Sid down the hall.

Sid doesn’t feel very lucky as he stands on the ice with his head bowed for the anthem. He feels off center and wrong footed. His routine has been tampered with for the first time and even though he knows that it’s not that big of a deal he can’t seem to shake the feeling that he just fucked everything up.

He peeks up as the music winds down. Geno is on the bench with the charm of his necklace between his lips. He seems fine.

 _He got to keep his routines_ , Sid thinks as he puts his helmet back on and skates towards center ice.

Two minutes into the game Sid scores on a breakaway.

Six minutes after that, it’s Geno’s turn.

“Told you,” Geno says as he climbs back over the boards. He’s sweaty and panting and his grin is lopsided. “New luck.”

Sid grins back at him.

In the final minutes of the third Tanger scores while Geno is on the ice and Geno throws his body into his for a hug hard enough to make the glass rattle.

Sid expects Tanger to shove him off angrily but instead he’s laughing when Geno finally skates away.

“It was like getting hit by a train,” Tanger says as he takes a seat beside Sid. He’s pressing his hand to his ribs but he’s smiling as he does it.

The mood in the locker room after the game is exuberant. It was a dominant win with contributions from all the leaders including a shut out for Flower.

“Alright guys,” Tanger yells above the excited chatter, “what are we doing this weekend to celebrate?” The guys shout out different suggestions as Geno throws his gear into bag and throws it over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s out the door Sid gets up and follows, only half dressed and not even thinking until he calls Geno’s name and he turns around.

“I think…” Sid starts and Geno takes a step back towards him. He should invite him to whatever dumb thing the guys have planned. He should ride this wave of goodwill that they’re feeling and finally include him. But he chickens out. “Good game, eh?”

Something flashes over Geno’s face, disappointment maybe, before it clears. “Thanks, Sid. You too.”

He gives Sid a tight smile before he turns and walks away.

Sid watches him go until he steps out the double doors and into the parking lot.

-

“Everyone settle down,” Mr. Lewis says from the front of the class. “I know we’re getting to the end of the class but there’s one more thing we have to go over. It’s everyone’s favorite time of the year.” He pauses and draws it out. “It’s time for group projects. You’ll be working in pairs. I know you’re all excited.”

The class groans but Sid really doesn’t mind. Joanna Pattinson is sitting beside him and he plans on asking her before anyone else can. She’s nice and smart and won’t stick him with the bulk of the work. Plus he’s pretty sure they share a study hall so it’ll be easy to work on their project.

“I’ll be assigning your partners,” Mr. Lewis says and this time Sid groans along with the rest of the class.

He’s on the edge of his seat as Mr. Lewis begins to read off names. There are definitely people Sid doesn't want to get stuck with from past experiences. He knows that Tucker Stevenson doesn’t know how to format a bibliography correctly and flat out refuses to learn, and Julie Crawford is painfully shy and will make Sid do all the talking for the oral presentation and-

“Sidney, you’ll be working with Mr. Malkin,” Mr. Lewis interrupts.

“Shit,” Sid says without thinking and the rest of the class laughs while Mr. Lewis raises his eyebrows.

“Is there a problem, Sid?”

“Shit,” Sid says again when he realizes he said that aloud. “Sorry, no, there’s no problem. I’m sorry.”

The class is still laughing and Mr. Lewis looks back down at the list, slowly.

“It’s just,” Sid says as he leans forward, like that’s going to keep people from hearing. “Coach Sullivan didn’t ask you to do this, did he? Like some kind of team bonding exercise or something?”

“Sidney, you might be surprised to learn that the athletic program at this school doesn’t influence every single decision that’s made. It was random. You just got lucky. Now, moving on…”

Mr. Lewis continues to read off names and Sid listens to how the rest of his classmates react to their partner.

No one takes it as badly or as embarrassingly as he did but when he chances a look over his shoulder Geno is scowling at his desk. Obviously he’s not thrilled with the arrangement either. Maybe Sid had made a mistake worrying about including him in team events. Maybe he dislikes the team as much as they dislike him.

“I’ll give you the rest of class to meet with your partner so you can start to plan your projects. After that everything else must be done in your spare time.” Mr. Lewis claps his hands together. “Get to it.”

People start moving around him as chairs and desks are slid across the floor so they can group together.

When Sid turns back around Geno is staring at him with the same look Sid sees over the faceoff circle before the puck drops during practice. It’s a challenge and Geno is not going to give up.

With a heavy Sid grabs his notebook and heads to the free desk next to Geno. When he sits down he crosses his arms over his chest and refuses to speak. He was the one that had to move all the way back here, he’s not going to be the one to talk first.

The minutes tick by as they sit silently next to each other. Geno has slumped down in his chair with his head resting on his closed fist.

He looks relaxed and comfortable, like he could spend the rest of his life outwaiting Sid.

Sid doesn’t have that kind of time and with five minutes left in class he finally breaks the stalemate.

“Look, this is stupid,” he says and Geno looks up. “We have to pick a topic and we’re wasting time. Do you have any ideas about what you want us to do?” Geno thinks for a minute and then shakes his head and Sid rolls his eyes.

“We’ll do something that interests both of us,” Sid says quicky. “Canadian and Russian relations during the Cold War. That should be easy enough to talk about, sound good?”

“Is fine.”

“Great. What period do you have a study hall?”

“Third.”

“Mine is sixth so that’s not going to work. We’re going to have to meet at the library.”

“Have practice and games this week. Library closed when we get out.”

“Then you’re going to have to come to my house, it’s only a five minute walk.”

“Walk?”

“Yes.” “I have car.”

“Then drive, I don’t care. Just show up tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?”

“I need-.” He needs a minute.

Geno grins at him. “Need time to hide embarrassing pictures?”

“Shut up,” Sid mumbles. “We’ll brainstorm on our own tonight and then share and pool our ideas at my house and go from there, okay?”

“Bossy,” Geno mumbles and Sid glares at him until Geno smiles. “Okay. Brainstorm. Your house. Good plan, Captain.”

“Whatever. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

“Have to give you plenty of time to hide baby pictures,” Geno says as he pats Sid’s arm.

The bell rings before Sid can say anything else.

-

“It sucks,” Flower says.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Sid answers as he takes another swig from his water bottle.

Sully has given them a rare break in the middle of practice and Sid, Flower, and Tanger are by the bench while Geno softly bats puts into the empty net.

“It sucks,” Flower repeats. “What if he’s a total douche to your parents?” “Even worse,” Tanger interrupts, “what if he’s really nice and charming and they love him?”

“Why would that be bad? I don’t want him to be mean to my parents.”

“Because then they’re going to want him to come over again and start asking why you guys haven’t hung out before and then before you know it you’re guilted into being best friends with Evgeni Malkin.”

“I don’t think my parents will be like that.”

“You never know,” Tanger says and Flower nods along.

“I guess I just hope for the best then,” Sid says as he takes one last drink and Sully blows his whistle.

“Yeah, but which option is the best?” Sid shakes his head as he skates towards the middle of the ice. He pulls up to a stop next to Geno who knocks his elbow into Sid’s when Sully starts talking about the power play.

-

The following day after practice Sid waits for Geno by the locker room doors.

His hair is still damp from his post practice shower as Geno comes out with his bag over his shoulder and his keys swinging around his finger.

“Should have dried off better,” Geno says with a frown as he reaches out for Sid’s hair. Sid tries to dodge him but there’s nowhere for him to go. He’s trapped between the wall and Geno’s body as Geno twirls a strand around his finger. “Going to freeze, get sick, die, and then we won’t be able to use you on the power play that we work so hard on. Not fair to team, Sid.”

“I’m sure Jake can take my place,” Sid says dryly as he finally gets himself free. “And it’s fine, I walk home all the time.”

“Should get a car, Sid.”

“I don't need one. My house is only five minutes away. Besides, I’m still saving up for one. My allowance is only so much.”

“My parents give to me when they tell me we’re moving. _We’re sorry,_ gift. Supposed to make me feel better.”

“Did it work?”

Geno tips his head to the side. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Geno’s car is a well used Ford Focus that’s cleaner on the inside than Sid was expecting, but the distinct smell of dirty hockey gear still lingers.

“Sorry,” Geno says, sounding slightly embarrassed as he cracks open the windows. “Mama keeps getting me air fresheners but they don’t work.”

“It’s okay,” Sid says. His parents minivan isn’t any better and Taylor has been talking more and more about wanting to be a goalie so there’s no end in sight.

Geno gives him a small smile as he puts the car in drive. “Good thing it’s a short drive, yeah?”

Sid smiles back. “For sure.”

Geno has a bit of a lead foot so Sid’s five minute walk turns into a minute and a half drive that leaves Sid with an aching hand because of how hard he was gripping the arm rest. Sid takes a moment to flex his fingers when Geno stops the car before he opens the door and gets out.

When he turns around Geno is twisted around in his seat digging around for something in the back.

He finally emerges with his backpack in one hand and a Tupperware in the other.

“What is that?”

“Cookies,” Geno answers as he lifts the container out of Sid’s reach. “For your parents. My mama says it’s rude to show up empty handed. Not polite.”

“It would have been okay.”

“Can’t be rude,” Geno says then nods toward the house. “Invite me in. Cold out here.”

Sid hangs both their jackets on the hooks just inside the front door and Geno follows suit when Sid toes off his shoes and leaves them on the mat.

“You could have let them on,” Sid tells him but Geno shakes his head as Sid takes both their backpacks and drops them to the floor by the stairs.

In the kitchen Trina is standing over the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon while Troy is setting the table.

Taylor is already sitting down and walking a Barbie back and forth across the table.

“You’re home early,” Trina says as she glances to the clock on the stove. “Don’t tell me Coach let you out early because I won’t believe it, oh-.” She startles when she sees Geno standing beside him but recovers quickly. “Did I know you were bringing someone home?”

“Is okay?” Geno asks, voice full of worry. “I can go.”

Trina shakes her head and waves her hand at him. Troy’s already pulled another plate and set of cutlery out of the cabinets and placed them on the table. “Of course it’s okay, I’m sorry about that. Usually Sid lets me know. I thought maybe I forgot.”

“We have a group project to work on,” Sid explains, “do you need help with anything?” “No, no, dinner’s done. We were pretty much waiting on you. Both you boys take a seat.”

“You sure it’s okay?” Geno asks again and Trina pats him on the shoulder.

“Of course. We’re having pot roast and mashed potatoes. You eat meat, don’t you?”

“Yes?”

“Good, good, one of the boys on the team was going through a phase where he didn’t eat meat at one time. Who was that, Sid?”

“Dumo. He got really into tofu for a couple of weeks.” Sid rolls his eyes. “He saw something on some cooking show, I don’t know. I don’t know what he did to it but it didn’t taste that bad.”

“Still, I’m glad that’s over.” She smiles up at Geno. “It’s really great to have you, Geno. We were wondering when we’d finally officially meet you. I’m surprised you haven’t been over yet. It feels like the rest of the team is over here every weekend.”

Sid holds his breath and grips the back of his chair. If Geno wanted to this would be the perfect opportunity to rat him. He could tell his parents that he and the rest of the team have been purposely excluding him. Sid could catch a lot of shit for this.

Instead, Geno looks apologetic. “Busy. Lots of school work and unpacking, still. Should have done that when we first move but….I put it off.”

“Well, school work is very important,” Trina says as Sid slowly relaxes.

“But so is team bonding,” Troy offers as he steps forward with his hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Geno juggles with the Tupperware in his hands and Sid says, “oh yeah, Geno brought cookies.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Trina says. She takes the container so Geno can shake Troy’s hand.

“My mama made them,” Geno explains and Sid delights in the way his face has turned a soft shade of pink. “Russian recipe. Hope you like.”

“I’m sure they’re lovely,” Trina says, “I’ll put them out for dessert. “Now go sit down, go. Taylor, it’s time to put your toys away while we eat.”

“But they’re hungry too,” she says as Geno carefully squeezes around both of Sid’s parents to make it to the table. “Do you like my Barbie?” She asks Geno and Geno looks the doll over.

Her hair is wild, a bright pink elastic barely holding it together in a ponytail and there’s paper towels or tissue paper taped her to her legs, arms, and shoulders.

“She hurt? Has lots of casts on.”

“That’s her gear,” Taylor says dryly and Geno frowns and looks to Sid.

“They don’t make any hockey player Barbie’s so Taylor has to improvise.”

Geno’s eyes light up. “You like hockey?” He asks and Taylor nods.

“I want to be a goalie.”

“Goalies are little bit crazy.”

There’s fire behind Taylor’s eyes when she says “I know.”

Geno spends the majority of dinner talking to Sid’s dad about the team.

“You and Sid are monsters out there,” Troy says. “Strongest power play in the division, hands down.”

“Sid’s a good teammate,” Geno says. “Maybe best I’ve ever had. He makes things easy out there.” Troy points his fork at Sid. “That’s some high praise, Sid. There are some talented players over at Crichton.”

“Yeah but Geno was clearly the best one,” Sid says without thinking.

Geno stops chewing and stares at him and Troy nods, not fully understanding what just happened.

“I can’t wait to see what you boys do for the rest of the season. You’re already off to a great start.”

Sid smiles shyly at Geno before he turns back to his plate.

After dinner and dessert Taylor grabs Geno’s hand and starts to drag him towards the living room.

“Should help clean up?” He asks as he twists back towards the kitchen.

“You have to see the rest of my hockey team,” Taylor says.

“Go ahead,” Sid tells him. “I won’t be long.”

Taylor keeps tugging and Geno stumbles along after her, nodding as she talks a mile a minute about all her toys.

“Geno’s very nice,” Trina says as soon as they’re out of earshot.

“He is in front of you,” Sid mumbles as he starts to load the dishwasher.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” Sid drops a handful of forks into the basket. “He’s not always the nicest on the ice.”

“Is something go on with you two?” Troy asks seriously. “Do we have to talk to Sullivan?”

“No, no. It’s nothing, everything is fine now I guess but when he used to play against us he was horrible.”

“Horrible how?” “He talked a lot, all in Russian. I don’t know exactly what he said but it probably wasn’t good.”

“Oh,” Troy says, “that’s hockey, Sid. That’s just the way it is.”

“I’m sure you’ve said plenty of things on the ice that you don’t want me to know about, honey,” Trina says as she pats his cheek. It’s damp from the dishwater. “We’ll finish up in here. Why don’t you go and try to tear Geno away from Taylor so you boys can start your project.”

Sid finds Geno in the living room sitting on the couch with Taylor on the floor in front of him. He’s listening as she tells him all about the makeshift hockey team that she’s created out of her dolls and Sid’s old action figures.

“This is the backup goalie,” Taylor says as she holds up a Lego figurine with a hard hat on. “But he’s not as good as Barbie.”

“Maybe he can learn,” Geno says. “Barbie can teach him.”

“Maybe,” Taylor says as she drops the Lego and picks up a Ken doll. “This is-.”

“Taylor, Geno and I have to work on our project now.”

“Can he come back and play with me later?” “I don’t know,” Sid says at the sametime Geno says “of course. Have to show me rest of team.”

Taylor smiles as Geno runs a hand over her hair and stands up.

“My room is upstairs,” Sid says as Geno picks up his backpack and follows him up the stairs.

Geno takes the steps slowly, and by the time Sid’s at the landing Geno is still only halfway down and looking at the photos that line the wall.

“You take down every picture of you?”

“Just the embarrassing ones.”

“I was only kidding. Didn’t think you’d actually do that.”

“Please, you’d probably take a picture and send it to your old team and they’d have giant posters made of my face for when we play them.”

“Never even thought about doing that,” Geno says quietly. “But is a good idea.”

“Too bad,” Sid says as Geno climbs the rest of the stairs. “They’re all hidden.”

Geno shakes his head. “No fun.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

Geno grins at him and starts down the hall.

They get to work right away. Geno takes notes from the books that Sid checked out of the library and Sid spends hours reading different articles online.

Sid only realizes how late it is when he looks up to tell Geno _bless you_ when he sneezes and he catches sight of the clock on the wall.

It’s after ten.

Geno hums as he closes the book in his lap. “Maybe tomorrow you come to my house to work. Is fair? Think my mama would like to meet.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Geno says gravely. “Very embarrassing.”

“Then I will definitely be there. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Sid’s parents are still awake and watching tv in the den when Sid and Geno come downstairs.

“It was nice to officially meet you,” Trina says. “Your mother goes to the games, doesn’t she? Next game we’ll have to sit together.”

“I think she’d like that,” Geno says.

“Drive safe, Geno,” Troy says. “Text Sid when you get home so we know you’ve made it.”

Geno nods even though he doesn’t even have Sid’s number and Sid leads him through the rest of the house and out the door to his car.

It’s chilly with no coat and only socks on his feet so he crosses his arms over his chest as he walks Geno to his car.

“Family is nice,” Geno says. “Cute sister.”

“She’s a handful. Sorry she roped you into playing with her.”

“Was fun,” Geno says with an easy shrug. “Like kids.” He chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he adds, “you mean what you say during dinner, you think I’m best?”

Sid rolls his eyes. “You’re still thinking about that? It was hours ago.”

“That is not a yes or no.”

“I don’t need to feed your ego anymore. Have a good night, Geno. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turns back towards the house, rubbing at his arms and Geno calls out to him.

“You think I’m best.”

Sid throws up his middle finger and Geno bursts out laughing.

It’s a good way to end the night.

-

“Well, was it terrible? Was he awful?” Sid looks over Tanger’s shoulder at Geno, sitting alone at his lunch table.

“It was okay. He’s a good partner.”

“Wait until he shoves you with all the work last second,” Tanger mumbles.

“I have to go to his house tonight.”

Tanger blinks at him. “You have to meet his parents?”

“I’ve seen his mom at games. She looks nice.”

“Text any of us if you need to bail and we will be right there with an excuse.”

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“With Malkin, you never know.”

-

Geno is waiting against his car at the end of the day and Sid holds the Tupperware out to him.

“What’s this?”

“Gingerbread. My mom always makes a ton for practice right before the holidays. She wants to make sure they’re perfect for Christmas. She said she should have given them to you last night but she forgot.”

“Is okay,” Geno says as he pops the top on the Tupperware and takes out a cookie.

“Those are for your parents.”

“They’d let me have one. We share.” He jerks his head towards the car as he takes a bite. “Come on. Mama excited to meet you.”

Geno lives in a small brick out about twenty minutes from the school.

Sid takes his shoes off at the front door even though Geno keeps his on and follows Geno deeper into the home.

Even though the Malkins only moved in over the summer the house looks warm and lived in.

“Mama, мы дома!”

“English in the house with guests, Zhenya!” Yells a woman with an even heavier accent than Geno. Sid wasn’t sure that was possible. A short woman with a kind face turns the corner into the front hall with her arms out. “Oh, Sidney,” she says and she pulls him into a strong hug. “Is so nice to meet you. Heard so much about you.”

Sid pats her back and looks up at Geno. He’s smiling, clearly amused by his mother squeezing the life out of him.

“Mama is a hugger,” he says in a stage whisper and Mrs. Malkin finally pulls back to swat at Geno’s chest.

“I am excited to meet one of Geno’s friends. We were so worried taking him out of his old school and putting him here. We know how boys are out on the ice, we know the history but I’m so happy you’re getting along.”

Geno stops smiling behind his mother’s back.

“Geno’s great,” Sid says and it’s not even a lie. “Your house is really nice.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Malkin says as she pats Sid’s face and looks over her shoulder to Geno. “A good boy.”

“Yes, yes, Sid is amazing,” Geno says dryly. “Ты в последнее время слышал что-нибудь от Дениса?”

“English,” she scolds. “Dennis called this afternoon. He said he was sorry he didn’t get to talk to you but he’d call back sometime he knows you’re going to be home. I told him it’s hard to tell lately, you’re so busy.”

Geno looks disappointed and sad and something twists in Sid’s stomach.

“He’ll call back, Zhenya, don’t worry. But for now, are you boys hungry? Your father is working late so I had leftovers tonight, Sidney, do you like borscht?”

“Umm.”

“You’ll love,” Mrs. Malkin says. “Come sit down.”

Sid doesn’t love borscht. He doesn’t even really like it but he’s unfailingly polite and so he ends up eating the whole bowl in between answering any question that Geno’s mother asks him about his childhood and hockey and his family.

Geno finishes his bowl and grins harder with every spoonful that Sid struggles to get down until his spoon it’s the empty bottom and Mrs. Malkin clears the table.

“I’ll leave you boys alone now to work. If you need anything just call, okay?”

Sid nods as Mrs. Malkin leaves the kitchen. When he looks back to Geno he’s rolling his eyes.

“Dumb,” he says as he stands and grabs a loaf of bread out of the breadbox and a bag of shredded cheese from the fridge. “You don’t like, just say.”

“I did like it,” he lies. “It was interesting. Now I can say that I’ve had it.”

Geno laughs and turns on the burner. “Media training already. Say a lot without saying anything.”

“What are you even doing?” “Making grilled cheese.”

“You don’t have to do that for me. I ate the soup. I’m fine.”

Geno looks at him, one eyebrow arched. “Who says it’s for you?”

Sid rolls his eyes as Geno puts too much butter in the pan followed by the bread and a heaping mound of cheese.

“You look just like your mom,” Sid says absentmindedly as Geno flips the sandwiches.

“Thank you,” Geno says with a big smile and when Sid looks at him funny he continues. “Mama is beautiful so you if you think I look the same I’m going to thank you.”

“Well, okay.”

Geno slides the grilled cheese onto a paper towel so he doesn’t have to dirty a plate and puts it in front of Sid.

“So,” Sid says as he picks it up, “is your dad tall?”

Geno grins as he bites into his own sandwich.

There are still a few cardboard boxes in Geno’s room. Sid puts his bag on one and peeks into another.

“You haven’t unpacked yet?”

“Been busy with school and hockey. I unpack as I need.” He hands Sid one of the books that they’ve been using for research. “You take notes from book tonight, I’ll look online.”

Sid settles on Geno’s bed and flips open the book while Geno starts up his computer.

“Who is Dennis?” He asks and Geno looks up.

“Brother.”

“You have a brother? Is he older? Is he at school?”

Geno nods and looks back down at the screen. “Back in Russia.”

“He went back to Russia for school?”

“Never came over here. Stayed with my grandmother until he was old enough to move out.”

“So you don’t see him very often, then, do you?”

“We go home in the summers. See him then.”

Geno stares down at the screen and starts typing.

“Do you miss him a lot?”

“Hungry,” Geno says as he shuts his laptop. “Need ice cream.”

“We just ate.”

“Ate dinner. Not ice cream.”

He grabs his sweatshirt off the back of the chair and pulls it over his head. Then he pats his pockets to double check for his wallet and his keys. “Get up or I leave you.”

“It’s freezing outside and you want to go get ice cream? There aren’t any shops open right now.”

Geno pulls his keys out of his sweatshirt pocket and walks out of the room without saying another word.

Sid scrambles off the bed and into his shoes so he can follow.

Geno’s standing in the doorway to the living room when Sid comes down the stairs.

“Going for ice cream, mama. Need a break.”

“You need money?” She asks and then looks at Sid with a smile. “What about you, Sidney?”

“No, no, I’m good.”

Mrs. Malkin smiles, wide and warm. “Good. You boys have fun. Drive safe, Zhenya.”

“Always, mama,” Geno says as he puts his hands on Sid’s back and pushes him towards the front door.

Mrs. Malkin’s laughs carries them down the hall.

None of the local ice cream shops open until the spring, but there is a gas station only five minutes away that has a fairly extensive freezer section.

Geno grabs a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough and Sid gets peanut butter cup and follows him up to the register to pay. Geno surprises him by pushing their pints together and paying for both of them.

The car is still warm when they get back inside and Geno digs two plastic spoons out of the glove compartment and hands one over before he peels back the lid to his ice cream.

They eat in silence as the car slowly cools down around them until Sid can’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry for the way the team treats you,” he blurts out and Geno frowns around his spoon. “Team is fine. Winning lots.”

“No, I mean off the ice. They’re awful to you and I’m not really any better. We make plans without you when you’re right there. That’s terrible.”

“They just don’t trust. Have lots of years to use against me.”

“Yeah but that’s bullshit. I mean, it’s just hockey, that’s the way it is,” he says, echoing his father’s words. “I should talk to them.”

“Might make it worse.”

“How could it be worse?”

Geno shrugs. “I think would probably be the same if you were the one to change schools. My old team probably wouldn’t like you much.”

Sid shudders at the thought of playing with other guys.

“You should just show up the next time we have something planned.”

Geno snorts. “Probably change time or something.”

“Then go with me. We’ll go together.”

“Like a date?” Sid almost chokes on his ice cream. He didn’t mean it like that, he wasn’t even thinking about it, but if Geno is making an offer-.

Geno tips his head back and laughs. “Your face,” he says. “Look so worried.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Sid says as he tries to calm his heart. “Shut up. I was trying to be nice to you. I was actually feeling bad for you for having to leave your old team to come here but forget it.”

Geno laughs again and digs around in his ice cream until he pulls out a chunk of cookie dough. “Harder to leave Russia for brand new country. Different language, different people. Miss my brother a lot. You live here forever?”

Sid nods. “Yeah. My whole life.”

“Going to be hard to leave for college then. And then NHL.”

Sid huffs a laugh. “Don’t know if any of that will be happening now.”

Geno furrows his eyebrows and slowly pulls the spoon out of his mouth. There’s a smudge of chocolate on his bottom lip. Sid takes a deep breath.

“What do you mean? Don’t want to play hockey anymore?”

“No, I do. I love it, it’s the only thing I want to do but you’re here now. It’s harder.”

Geno shakes his head and darts his tongue out to lick at his lips. “Don’t make sense.”

“It’s just…” Sid trails off and looks out the window. The glass is starting to fog and it looks like snow and in a few minutes his hands are going to start to get cold from holding the carton. It’s all a mess. “I feel like it’s going to be harder to be noticed if you’re here. They’re going to be looking at you.”

Geno snorts. “Been looking at you for years.”

“I haven’t won anything.”

“So what?”

“So I have to win something. This year was supposed to be my stand out year. I was going to be the best.”

“And now you can’t?”

“Not with you here.”

Geno smiles. “You think I’m best?”

“”You said that, not me.”

“You think I’m the best and I’m beautiful. You’re right, you know. Both those things.”

“I wish I had half of your self confidence.”

“Don’t know why you don’t. You’re pretty too.”

Geno means it as another joke, he must, but it falls heavy and flat between them in the car.

“Should get going,” Geno says as he hands Sid his carton of ice cream so he can turn the key in the ignition.

It’s a quiet ride back to Geno’s and when they pull in there’s another car in the driveway.

Geno’s father isn’t much taller than his mother and after they make their introductions Sid follows Geno back up the stairs and asks “so where do you get your height from?”

Geno laughs. “Is big mystery.”

-

The first game of the season at Crichton Park is on a Saturday night. There are already fans in the rink before their bus even pulls into the parking lot.

When they take the ice for warm up the crowd comes alive and they start booing as soon as Geno steps onto the ice behind Sid.

“Why are they booing you, it’s not like if was your choice to leave.”

Geno circles slowly around him, eyes cutting away to the stands and the fans.

“Just keep your head up tonight, okay?”

“Why? What’s going to happen?”

“Head up,” Geno says as he digs his skates in and comes to a stop in front of him. “Promise.”

“Okay. Fine.”

Geno looks past him as he looks up the ice where the Cobras are warming up.

“Good.” He taps Sid on the chest with his fist and skates off.

The game is brutal. It’s more about physicality than skill and by the start of the second everyone is feeling some kind of pain.

Knuckles is favoring his left leg and Jake keeps taking off his gloves on the bench and flexing his hands.

The crowd is wild and Sid can tell that Geno’s rage is simmering beneath the surface. With every shift and every hit Sid can feel it growing. If he doesn’t get it under control soon it’s going to bubble over in the worst way.

On the bench Geno’s leg bounces as he watches Knuckles block another shot on the PK.

“Hey,” Sid says and knocks their shoulders together. “Focus. It’s going to be okay.”

Geno nods as the crowd roars behind them.

A puck rings off the post. Flower makes a save. Sid hops over the boards to start his shift and never even sees the hit coming.

One second he’s on his feet waiting for a pass and the next he’s on the ice.

He thinks maybe the winds just been knocked out of him, he just needs a second. The trainer doesn’t need to be shuffling towards him and the puck can drop and the play can go on.

But pain flares up and down his left arm as he takes off his helmet with his right.

The crowd is even louder now and Sid’s horrified that they’re cheering for him down on the ice and injured until he looks over Mr. Stewart’s shoulder to see Geno and a Crichton Park player circling each other.

Geno is red in the face and yelling in Russian or English, Sid’s not sure, but the other guys isn’t backing down.

There’s a ref and a linesman trying to separate them while Horny and Tanger hang back, ready to jump in if they need to.

Sid wrinkles his brows and shakes his head as he gets to his feet.

“Why is Geno on the ice? He’s not on my line.”

“If you think that would stop him from jumping out there then we need to check your head too,” Mr. Stewart says as Sid steps through the door at the bench.

Sully is laying into the ref who seems to be one second away from ejecting him. On the ice Geno has dropped his gloves. The scoreboard is still tied up at 0-0. The game is a disaster and it’s not going to get better.

Back in the room they have to cut Sid’s jersey off of him. He can’t raise his arm above his shoulder and he feels like he’s biting all the way through his bottom lip as they get his gear off him. By the time he’s down to his base layers there are tears stinging his eyes.

When his parents open the door the sound of the crowd from down the hall pours in with them.

“I’m going to wait in the car,” Sid says as he hops off the table. He doesn’t need to hear how he needs to go to the hospital for x-rays and how it might be a fracture or a break all over again.

It’s possible his season is done.

Troy squeezes his right shoulder and hands him the keys.

Sid closes the door behind him just as the trainer starts to explain his injury. In the rink the horn sounds and the Cobra’s goal music starts to play. He hangs his head as he makes for the exit.

His parents car is parked in the back corner of the parking lot and the walk makes him regret not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. Not that he could fit it over the sling on his arm. _Fuck._ Tears are already threatening to fall as he hits the unlock button on the keyfob and a the car chirps and the headlights flash. At the sametime the side door that he came out of swings open behind him hard enough to smack against the brick.

“Sid!” Geno calls out and Sid turns around.

Geno still has his helmet and gloves on and he stumbles into the glow of the parking lot lights.

Sid wipes at his eyes as Geno unclips his helmet and tucks it under his arm. He’s clumsy in his skate guards but he makes it over to him and carefully puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder.

“Sid, okay? No one tell us. You not in the room, parents talking to trainer.” He shakes his head and stares down at the sling on Sid’s arm. “Really hurt?”

“It could be broken, they don’t know.” Sid says as he ducks his head. He doesn’t think Geno would be able to see the red rim around his eyes but he doesn’t want to chance it. “I have to get x-rays. My parents are going to take me to the hospital.”

“Oh, Sid.”

Sid shakes his head. He doesn’t want sympathy or pity or anything from Geno right now but it doesn’t matter because Geno’s hand tightens on his shoulder.

Sid brings his good hand up to his face and covers his eyes. “God,” he says, his voice broken and watery and Geno shuffles a little closer to him, heat rolling off his body. “This whole season has been such a disaster and now this. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s completely fucked up and I don’t know what to do.” Geno shakes his gloves off, dropping them and his helmet to the ground so he can reach out and haul Sid against his chest. Geno’s jersey is damp with sweat and it stinks but Sid still presses his face into the logo at the center of his chest and lets the tears fall.

“Going to be okay,” Geno says softly but he punctuates the words with a firm squeeze to the back of Sid’s neck. “Not broken, I know.”

“You don’t. This could be it.”

“Not broken,” he repeats. “Going to be back on ice soon, helping us win. So important, Sid.”

“You can win without me.”

“Win for you,” Geno says as he pulls back. “We’ll win _for_ you.”

Sid has his eyes shut tight so he doesn’t know that Geno’s going to kiss him until it’s happening.

It’s an awful kiss, not that Sid has much to compare it to. Geno’s so sweaty and his lips are rough and it all tastes faintly of blood but still, Sid’s curls the fingers of his good hand into the front of Geno’s jersey and holds him close.

After a few moments Geno pulls back, just enough to take a breath and whisper Sid’s name and Sid stretches himself up to press their lips together again.

This is what Sid has wanted since seeing him in the hallway on the first day of school, before he even recognized him.

If he’s honest with himself it was before that. It was the first time he saw Geno steps onto the ice opposite him wearing Crichton Park’s colors and doing everything he could to makes Sid’s time on the ice as difficult as possible.

Geno has always been on Sid’s mind, a constant that he’s grown up with and now with Geno’s hands cupped around the sides of his jaw, Sid never wants to give him up.

They break apart only when they have to, when the door opens behind them and Sid’s parents step out.

Geno is still standing close with his hand on Sid’s shoulder when Trina shouts across the parking lot “Sidney, you should really have a coat on.”

“I’m fine,” Sid answers. He’s flushed and warm all over from Geno’s body heat but Troy is already shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders.

“Geno, you should head back inside,” Troy says. “I know Sully is going to want to have a talk with the whole team.”

Geno nods. “Okay,” he says. “Take care of him.”

“Of course,” Trina says and Geno nods stiffly before tapping his knuckles against Sid’s chest.

“Going to win. Going to be okay.”

Geno doesn’t pull his hand back from Sid’s chest until Sid nods back at him. Until Sid believes it.

Geno starts slowly across the parking lot while Trina wraps her arm carefully around Sid’s back to lead him the rest of the way to the car.

“It’s going to be alright,” she tells Sid.

Sid nods and looks over his shoulder one last time before he ducks into the car.

Geno’s standing in the doorway, backlit by the light from inside the rink and looking back at him.

-

Troy turns the radio on to the game but the third period is only just starting when they pull into the hospital.

Sid tries not to cry, again, as a nurse props his arm up for the x-rays and tells him to hold stilland that it’ll be over in a minute.

It feels like it drags on and on but finally Sid’s waiting in a small room between his parents and hoping that it’s not as bad as it seems.

The doctor finally comes in with the x-rays and he sighs as he pins them to the board. With the cap of his pen he points to a small line across Sid’s bone.

“Well,” he says, “the break isn’t as bad as it could be.”

But it’s still a break, and Sid starts to zone out.

He hears the words cast and six to eight weeks and rehab and that’s the rest of his season, gone, just like that.

The cast is awkward on his arm and it takes time and patience and his mother’s help to finally get it through the sleeve of the sweatshirt they found for him in the back of the car.

“They won,” Troy says as he checks his phone before handing it off to Trina so he can start the car. “The Letangs texted. 3-1.”

“How?” Sid asks, “what happened?”

“Geno got two and then an empty netter from Bryan,” Trina says as she reads over the new texts. “Rust,” She clarifies. “Good for him. He’s been having such a hard time with those.”

“Geno told me that they would win,” Sid says softly as Troy pulls out of the parking lot.

“He kept his word,” Troy says. “He’s a good teammate. You guys are lucky to have him.”

Sids’ sure that’s true but right now he doesn’t know exactly how he has Geno or what they mean to each other.

It makes his head and heart ache.

“Can I stay home tomorrow?”

Trina looks at Troy and nods.

“I think after all this, you can take a break.”

“Thanks,” Sid says and sinks down in the seat, Geno’s words ringing in his ears and the phantom taste of his lips on his own.

-

Sid sleeps late the next morning and his mother makes him pancakes for breakfast.

“How do you feel?” She asks as she straightens out Sid’s bedhead. “Do you need a pain pill?” Sid shakes his head. “I kind of just want to go back to bed if that’s okay?”

Trina gives him a sympathetic look and nods. “Anything you want.”

Sid goes back to bed. There isn’t much else to do. He can’t play video games one handed and day time TV is so boring. Even taking a shower is a chore with the plastic bag he has to wrap around his cast.

Later that evening after practice Tanger shows up with the homework that he missed for the day.

“All your teachers said to take your time with it. They don’t expect it tomorrow.”

“I’ll get it done,” Sid says as Tanger sets the work down on the kitchen table. “I’ll be back tomorrow anyways, so…”

“Dude, milk this. Take a few more days off. Tell everyone your arm hurts so much you can’t even get out of bed. Get some sympathy.”

“I’m kind of ready to get things back to normal.” He holds up his cast. “Or at least as normal as it can be.”

“Sucks,” Tanger says with a sigh as he looks at the cast. Then his eyes brighten. “Can I draw on it?”

“Yeah, but nothing dirty. Taylor’s going to see it.”

Tanger nods as Sid grabs a marker out of the drawer and starts to hand it over.

Sid pulls back at the last second. “I mean it. No dicks.”

“I swear,” Tanger says as he crosses his heart. “I can be good.”

Sid gives him the marker then watches with great skepticism as Tanger uncaps it and starts to draw.

“So, did you see Geno’s interview?”

“What interview?”

“The one he gave after the game.”

“Geno gave an interview?”

“Yeah,” Tanger laughs. “He practically begged to do it. It was shocking.”

“What did he say?”

“Talked you up a ton. Basically called you the best player in the league and none of that _after me,_ bullshit either. Just flat out, _Sid’s the best._ You should watch it. I bet he pissed a lot of Crichton Park people off. But fuck them, they deserve it. Oh, the team wanted you to see this.” He’s halfway through a truly terrible drawing of an eagle when he puts the marker down and grabs his phone out of his pocket.

He thumbs through his photos until he finds the one he wants then holds his phone out for Sid to see.

Everyone on the team has a _C_ stuck to their jersey with stick tape.

“For our captain. Down but not out. Gone but not forgotten. We had to represent.”

“What’s with the _K_?” Sid asks as he double taps on Geno in the photo so it zooms in.

“I guess that’s how they spell it in Russia,” Tanger says. “At least that’s what he said. You know this whole thing was his idea. Maybe he’s not completely terrible.”

 _He kissed me_ , Sid thinks. _He kissed me and I kissed back and I don’t know if he meant it or if he only felt sorry for me or if he regrets it and I have no idea how he’ll act when I see him again._

“He did open up scoring and after you left, I gotta admit he was a really effective leader.”

Tanger’s eyes shoot away from the phone. “Not that he’s going to replace you. That’s never going to happen.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

“But Sully might give him the third _A_ while you’re out.”

“He deserves it.”

“We want you to come back,” Tanger says. “We’d trade him away in a second.”

“I might not be back this season,” Sid says quietly. “Probably won’t. Don’t expect it.”

“Fuck. That sucks. We’re still gonna win for you though.”

Sid smiles weakly as Tanger picks up the marker and keeps drawing.

Tanger leaves after completing the mascot and once Sid is back in his room he grabs his laptop and clicks his way to the athletics page.

It’s a short video filmed inexpertly on someone’s phone. Geno looks like he just fought a battle, still red in the face even though it’s clear he’s already taken a shower from the damp hair and towel draped over his shoulders.

Geno’s words, however, are clear and calm.

_“They think they hurt the best player and they win easy. I say no.”_

_“You think Sid is the best player on the team? Even better than you?”_   Someone off camera asks.

_“I think Sid is the best player on every team. If you don’t think same you not watching.”_

The video cuts away to Sully but Sid stops listening.

His father had called Geno’s compliments _high praise_ but this feels like something else. He rewinds the video and listens again, his heart stuttering in his chest in time to Geno’s words. They curl around him like a warm blanket and when he finally stops the video and closes his laptop it’s easy to drift off to sleep.

-

Sid’s cast is nearly covered in signatures by the time he slips out of third period English with the bathroom pass in hand.

He bypasses the bathroom and heads for the library instead where he know Geno takes his study hall.

Geno told him it was quieter there than in the classroom. He could actually get work done instead of listening to the gossiping of his classmates. Sid suspects Geno comes here because they’re mostly gossiping about him and he doesn’t want to hear it.

He finds Geno in the far corner of the library out of sight of everyone else. He has his books and notebooks spread out in front of him and his earbuds in playing music loud enough that Sid can hear it when he steps beside him.

He puts his hand on Geno’s shoulder and Geno startles, pulling out the earbuds and tossing them on the table.

“Sid,” he says as his eyes fall from Sid’s face to the cast on his arm. “Oh.”

“I think we should probably talk.”

Geno nods. “Talk about what?”

Sid squares his shoulders and sighs before he says, “you kissed me. We should talk about that.”

“You kissed me back,” Geno says with wide eyes and Sid pulls out the chair beside him and sits down.

“I’m not saying I didn’t but you kissed me first. I just want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Did it just happen and you weren’t thinking or did you feel bad for me or was it a joke?”

“Wasn’t a joke,” Geno says quickly and quietly. “Kiss you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to? Just like that?”

“See you get hurt, want to go check on you, look so sad and I like you so much...so, yes. Like that.”

“You like me?”

“Always like you.”

“Bullshit you always liked me. You hated me for years.”

Geno shakes his head. “Never hate you. You drive me crazy always, so good and make it so hard to stop you from scoring. Frustrate me. But I never hated you.”

“All those things you said to me-.”

“In Russian everything sounds a little…..rough. I’m loud. But I never say anything mean.”

“What did you say then?” “Nice things. Tell you you’re cute when you’re mad, have nice lips, best butt. Tell you I think your hockey is amazing, best I’m ever see-.”

Sid kisses him then. He ducks down and kisses Geno’s sweet words right off his lips.

Geno makes a surprised sound but kisses him back, bringing a hand up to cradle Sid’s jaw. Sid lists forward to get close to him and Geno puts his other hand on Sid’s shoulder to steady him.

“Careful. Arm.”

“My arm is fine,” Sid mumbles and Geno laughs.

“Not fine, in cast.”

“Don't remind me.”

Geno pulls back and presses their foreheads together.

“Should go back to class, Sid. Going to get in trouble.”

“I have a broken arm,” Sid says, “they can’t get mad at me.”

Geno huffs a laugh and kisses him again, just a brief peck.

“You should come over tonight,” Sid tells him. “We can finish our project.”

“Almost done with that,” Geno says. “Just have to type last bits up.”

Sid squeezes Geno’s knee before he stands up. “Just come by anyways. There’s other things we can work on.”

-

As soon Sid’s bedroom door shuts Sid is pressing Geno back against it with his hand in the middle of his chest.

Geno’s look of surprise melts into something fond as he smiles and says “look so innocent. Have no idea.”

Sid grins then leans up on his toes for a kiss.

Ten minutes later their backpacks are abandoned just inside the door and Geno is shirtless as he leans over Sid on the bed. Sid tips his head back as Geno kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Should really be doing homework,” Geno mumbles but his hands won’t stop roaming beneath Sid’s sweater. “Still have to finish project.”

“It’s basically done,” Sid says as he sits up so Geno can pull his sweater over his head. “I can finish it before class tomorrow.”

The sweater gets stuck on the cast and their hands bump and they try to untangle it.

“This stupid thing,” Sid hisses and Geno laughs, falling forward so he can press his face into the side of Sid’s neck. “It’s not funny.”

Geno sits up and helps Sid back into his shirt then he grabs his own and pulls it back over his head.

“Should work, Sid. Should also maybe cover this.” He touches the side of Sid’s neck and SId slaps his hand over it.

“What? What did you do?”

“Just little mark.”

“Geno,” Sid cries as he stands up and looks in the mirror that’s hanging off his closet door. There’s a deep red mark just above his collarbone and no matter how he tugs his t-shirt he can’t cover it. “What am I going to do?”

“Make up,” Geno suggests and Sid rolls his eyes. “Will be fine. No one will even notice.”

Sid is able to keep the mark carefully hidden for a few days but when he slips up, all of the guys notice.

Sid goes back to the locker room after practice. It’s hot and stuffy and as soon as he unzips his sweatshirt they descend on him.

“What the fuck is that?” Flower asks as he pokes at the mark.

“What the fuck does it look like,” Tanger says. “It’s a fucking hickey. Who’s been sucking on your neck?”

Sid slaps his hand over the mark. “No one. Leave me alone.”

“They didn’t just happen. Have you been seeing someone? Spill.”

“I told you to use that arm for sympathy but I had no idea you’d use it like that,” Tanger says.

“It’s not….it wasn’t sympathy.”

“Captain get lucky?” Geno has just stepped out of the shower and he’s rubbing his hair with the towel. “Who is special girl?”

Tanger’s face drops. “If Sid doesn’t want to talk about it he doesn’t have to.”

The rest of the guys head back to their stalls and Sid zips up his sweatshirt.

 _Thank you_ he mouths to Geno from across the room and Geno nods and drops the towel from his hair so he can get dressed.

-

Sid goes with Geno to his house that night.

He zips his sweatshirt all the way up so there’s no way Geno’s mom can see the mark but there’s something in her eyes that makes Sid think she might already know about them.

“Did you tell your mom?” Sid whispers as they make their way up to Geno’s bedroom with snacks in their hands.

Geno doesn’t answer until they’re tucked away inside his room.

“She figure out. I was so worried about you after the game, you know? She’s seen me worry about teammates before but this was more. Also she tells me I’ve been pining. She says mother’s just know.”

Sid stacks the pillows against the headboard so he can lean against them. “Thank you for earlier. For getting the guys off my back.”

Geno shrugs and stares hard at Sid’s neck. The mark is still hidden but under Geno’s heavy gaze Sid feels completely bare.

“Was my fault anyways. Should be more careful.”

“No,” Sid says quickly and Geno grins as he takes an Oreo off the plate between them. “I like it when you’re not careful.”

“Know you do.”

“Shut up,” Sid mumbles and Geno bites into the cookie. “It was a nice touch to think it was a girl.”

“Didn’t know if you were out to team. Or anyone else.”

“The team knows.”

“They’re okay with it?”

Sid nods. “If anyone isn’t I haven’t heard about it.”

“Tanger would kill them. Flower would help hide body.”

Sid laughs. “Yeah. You’re probably right. Are you out to your team?”

“Team don’t talk to me.”

“I meant your old team,” he explains and Geno shakes his head.

“Guys there not like the guys here. Wouldn’t be good.”

Sid makes a soft, sympathetic sound but Geno waves him off.

“Is okay. Not there anymore so…..they alway make a big deal about hickeys?”

“It is a big deal.”

“No, really not.”

“It is for me. I’ve never-.”

He cuts himself off but it’s too late. Geno’s eyes are wide and bright.

“You never? Not with anybody? I’m first?”

“It’s hard,” Sid whines. “Hockey is-.”

“Not a good excuse, Sid.”

“It is though. What if everything goes according to plan for me and I end up in the NHL? I’m going to be making money there. How do I know whoever I’m with now isn’t just trying to get in on the ground floor?”

“You think they use you for future money?”

“You never know.”

“Too young to be worrying so much.”

“Well, what do you worry about?”

“Game on Sunday, algebra test on Thursday. If I’m going to pass Home Ec.”

“I worry about all that and the future.” _And a million other things._

“Mama says too much worry gives you wrinkles.”

“Maybe it’ll make me look older.” Some days it feels like he’s never going to outgrow his baby face. “None of this even matters. It’s not like anyone looks at me like that anyways.”

“Like what?”

“Like they’re interested in me. No one sees me like that.”

Geno sits up suddenly and shuffles across the bed. He kneels in front of Sid and puts his hands on the side of his face, his thumbs move in slow circles over his cheeks.

“I see,” he says and Sid wonders if this is what the first stages of falling in love feels like.

“How do I know you’re not just using me for my future money?”

Geno rolls his eyes but kisses him anyways.

“Because,” he says as he drops back against the mattress. “Going to make more than you.”

Sid knows for sure this is what falling in love feels like.

“So you don’t care if he team knows?”

Geno shrugs non committedly. “Doesn’t matter I guess.”

Sid pauses. “Then we should tell them,” he says and Geno laughs.

“Team won’t like.”

“They won’t give you shit about it. I just told you they know about me.”

“No, not like that. I don’t care if they know but they won’t like. Going to say I’m not good enough for you because they can’t stand me. Scared maybe you believe them and end this before it even starts.”

“You know they don’t control me, right? I can make my own decisions.”

“Don’t control but very important. Know how much they mean to you. They’re like family.”

“You mean a lot to me too and I think things are getting better between the guys and you. Tanger told me that he didn’t think you were completely terrible.”

“Very nice praise.”

“From Tanger it is. It might help if they knew how close we are.”

“Or it might make things worse. Things are okay now. We’re working together and winning. We need to focus on hockey. Hockey is most important now that you’re going to be out for a little bit.”

“The rest of the season.”

“Don’t know,” Geno says, “could heal quick. Can start skating and getting all the attention from recruiters.”

“Actually,” Sid says slowly and Geno raises his eyebrows and waits for Sid to go on. “I got a letter of interest yesterday.”

The cookies spill off the plate in Geno’s haste to crawl up the bed and kiss him.

“It’s just one letter,” Sid says quickly, laughing against Geno’s lips. “And it’s not even to a very good school but it’s still something. My dad thinks more will start coming in.”

“Of course they will. I told you they would but you didn’t believe.”

Geno rolls to the side and sits beside him so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder.

“Now we wait for yours, right?”

“Got two already,” Geno says sheepishly. “Didn’t want to say while you’re hurt. Make you feel bad.”

Sid turns his head to the side to look at him and finds Geno looking back.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Geno says as he slowly picks up Sid’s hand. “Just want to make sure you’re happy.”

Sid squeezes his hand and rests his head on Geno’s shoulder.

-

It’s not all bad keeping their relationship a secret.

There’s something to be said about sneaking around; kissing Geno in the back rows of the library where no one can see or stealing kisses in Geno’s car or in the locker room after practice after the rest of the guys have left.

The team keeps winning and Sid’s arm feels like it’s getting better and better every day.

But that might just be the way Geno makes him feel, carefree and weightless.

It’s something that the team picks up on immediately.

“You gotta tell us who you’ve been seeing, Flower says over lunch.

“We have to thank him,” Tanger adds.

Sid frowns. “Thank him for what?”

“We expected you to be all mopey over your arm and you’re not. It’s a miracle.”

Flower nods. “We’ve never seen you this happy while you’re not playing hockey.”

“Do we know him or did you meet him somewhere else?”

“Did you meet him at camp?” Phil asks. “Oh my god, did you actually spend the entire summer fucking hockey?” Sid gives Phil a dirty look.

“Why is it such a secret?” Tanger asks. “We’re your teammates, you’re supposed to tell us everything. You know we’ve got your back.”

Sid looks over his shoulder at Geno, eating alone at his table. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, Sid. You can tell us anything. We won’t judge.”

Sid doesn’t know if he believes him but there’s only one way to find out for sure.

He jams his sandwich back in the brown paper bag and stands up.

“Where are you going? You’re not mad are you?”

Wordlessly Sid walks across the cafeteria and stands in front of Geno’s empty table.

Geno looks up and tips his head to the side. “Sid, serious?”

“I want to eat lunch with my boyfriend and I want my friends to know about it. More importantly I want everyone on my team to get along. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for.”

Geno shakes his head. “It’s not,” he says and then looks over Sid’s shoulder.

Tanger has gotten up from the table and followed him over. The rest of the guys are watching and waiting.

“Are you serious, Sid,” Tanger asks and Sid almost laughs at the wording, at how similar he and Geno really are.

“It’s serious,” Sid says as he glances back at Geno. “We have to figure this out. Not just for the team but for me.”

“You play dirty,” Tanger mutters and Sid smiles.

“As long as it works I don’t really care.”

Tanger rolls his eyes but sits down anyways. Sid sits beside him as the team slowly settles down around them.

The conversation starts up again. Flower is worrying about the quiz he has next period while Conor is asking for someone to proofread his essay on _To Kill A Mockingbird_.

Sid looks across the table at Geno who is tucking his elbows to his side to make room for Phil and Horny.

Sid hooks his foot around Geno’s beneath the table and Geno looks up with a smile. He lays his hand down on the table, palm up and Sid covers it with his own.

“Get a room,” Tanger mumbles and Geno is quick to flip him off. Tanger laughs in amusement before he turns his head and continues talking with Dumo.

Geno smiles at Sid, wide and warm and Sid squeezes his hand as their teammate’s conversations flow around them.


End file.
